


Not Long For This World

by all_things_fandom_and_stuff



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Bartenders, Blood and Gore, Cats, Death, Drinking, F/M, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Bro, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Resurrection, Sad Ending, Self-Hatred, Sort Of, Suffering, Suicide, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underworld, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_things_fandom_and_stuff/pseuds/all_things_fandom_and_stuff
Summary: Tony dies and finds himself in the underworld.





	1. Welcome to the Underworld

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to update this as often as I can, but I am a working graduate student so my free time is limited! I hope you all enjoy it!

I have tried many drugs in my life. I have experienced all sorts of weird hallucinations and black outs, but I swear to god I have no idea what I took and how I ended up here. I try to remember where I am or who I am with, but I can’t even remember what I was doing sixty seconds ago. It’s like I popped into existence just to sit in this dull, barren grey office. 

The man who sits on the opposite side of the desk stares at me intensely, giving me seriously weird vibes. His eyes are an unnatural pale grey, and I assume he has contacts in. He is wearing a light charcoal suit that under normal circumstances I would be admiring. I stare back at him, squinting my eyes as I size him up. He doesn’t move.

“I’ll just go…” I say as I rise from the industrial metal chair, glancing around for a door. There is none. 

“Sit down, Mr. Stark.” He gives me an exasperated look, but I remain standing. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, Mr…” My eyes dart around for a name tag, a desk plate, or even a goddamn memo. No such luck.

“Reaper.”

I couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“Mr. Reaper? Well your office aesthetic certainly fits your name. Was it a conscious decision to go with the cold uninviting furniture? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just I don’t know who you are, or what I’m doing here, and frankly you’re giving me serial killer vibes.”

He stares at me unmoved.

“Mr. Stark, you’ve passed,” Mr. Reaper says in a deadpan.

“Come again?”

“You’ve passed. Moved on. Kicked the bucket. You’re pushing up daisies.”

I look around the room for a camera, but I don’t see one.

“So, who is it?”

“Who is what, Mr. Stark?”

“Who put you up to this? Happy? Parker? Pepper? It was Pepper, wasn’t it? She’s still mad at me for the giant rabbit. I knew it was too much. She hated it. Okay, so like I’m dead, haha, now can you please tell me what’s in my system? What did you all drug me with?”

Mr. Reaper’s unmoving face finally started to shift as it turned from indifference into annoyance.

“Please, Mr. Stark, I’ve had a very long day. I’d rather this go over smoothly. Yesterday, you passed away after using a device called the infinity gauntlet to defeat the titan Thanos. You died around family and friends, but it was incredibly painful. You’re death has been deleted from your memory due to it’s traumatizing nature.”

I waited for him to break character and drop this facade of a complete lack of empathy, but his cold eyes remained fixed to mine. 

“I’m dead?”

“You’re dead.”

“I’m dead…” I mumble flopping back down into the chair. How could I be dead? I have a daughter… a wife… friends…

“You’ll need to sign these documents stating that I have informed you of your passing, and that you understand what that means. After that I can give you the deed to your home, and you can be on your way.”

“My home? There are homes in-- in-- where are we?” I realize that I still have no clue where we are. I had never been a firm believer in the afterlife, and had therefore never given it much consideration. I had always assumed that if there was such a thing as heaven and hell, that I would end up in the latter. I wasn’t exactly a saint. Maybe this is hell. This guy isn’t giving off paradise vibes.

“The underworld,” Mr. Reaper replies with an exasperated sigh. I gulp nervously, my suspicions about to be confirmed.

“So, hell?”

“No. There is no such thing as heaven and hell. There is only the underworld. Those who have been deemed to have lived a morally conscious life overall are given access to all neighborhoods. Those who did not are contained in their own neighborhood. It helps lower crime levels.”

“There’s crime in the underworld?”

“Yes, but honestly Anthony I do not have time to explain this all to you. You will just have to learn like everyone else. Here is a pen. Now, will you please sign these documents?”

Mr. Reaper hands me a long thin black pen that has a tiny skull on the top. I take it and look at the document he has laid out before me. It’s written in latin with a brilliant crimson ink.

“I won’t sign this! I have no idea what it says! For all I know, you could be asking me to give my consent to remove and sell my kidneys. Do I still have kidneys?” I absentmindedly run my fingers over my stomach. 

“Either you sign it, or I just remove you from existence. To be honest, I would probably get some strongly worded letters about it, but no one has ever been able to unseat me as king of the underworld. Hela will try to, but she'll get over it, and so will the others.”

I look at the document once more, and all of its words that I cannot read. I feel frustrated by that fact. I’m rarely in a position where I don’t know what’s going on. It’s the benefit of almost always being the smartest guy in the room. Sometimes Bruce gave me a run for my money, but even then I’m always able to follow along. I sigh, and sign next to a large red ‘X’. 

“Wonderful,” Mr. Reaper says, and I almost think I see a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. I shiver involuntarily, “Here is the deed to your home. I hope you enjoy your eternal stay here in the underworld.”

He gestures behind me, and I turn to see a door that was definitely not there a few moments ago. I’m about to speak up, and ask for more clarification, but the man is guiding me with one hand towards the hallway, and before I know it I’m standing outside his office, and the door has dematerialized once more. 

“Son of a bitch,” I murmur under my breath. I look down the hallway in both directions, but I see no sign of another door, or room, or really anything at all. Just an endless gray tunnel. In front of me is a small plastic sign that informs me that the underworld is to my left, and the land of the living is to my right. I glance around once more to make sure I really am alone, and I start walking down the hallway to my right.

For a while I actually think it’s working. If I just keep walking this way I’ll get to go home to Pepper, and Morgan, and Peter, and Happy…

I take another step and yelp in pain as my hand seems to burn from the inside out. I look down to see my flesh covered in a black char. 

“Fuuuu--aaaaaaaaaa!!”

I step back, and my hand instantly starts to heal. I tentatively extend a finger forward until I can feel the heat. It’s like having your hand close to an open flame. 

“So much for that idea,” I sigh, and turn around, starting my trek back towards the underworld.

When I reach the other end of the hallway, I find myself staring at a metal door with a push bar and a glowing red exit sign above it. There is a piece of paper in a plastic sleeve taped to the door that reads “Warning! No Re-entry.”

I push open the door, and I find myself in…Downtown New York City?

No, not New York. The buildings are different, everything has a different glow to it. It’s nighttime, but it doesn’t feel like it. I feel like I’m in a dark room with a few thousand fireflies to light it up. It is bright enough to see, but it’s not harsh like the lights of New York. 

I look at the deed that Mr. Reaper gave me. The address says 6969 Redeemed Savior Road. I snort. Of course that’s my address. 

The only problem is that I don’t have a clue where flipping Redeemed Savior Road is, and I’ll sound like the world’s largest ass if I ask. 

Well, I guess that’s never stopped me before.

I stop a young woman that’s walking her dog, and I show her the deed. She grins, and points me in the right direction. I’ve only been walking for about a quarter of a mile, when I see it and know that it is mine.

It is almost an exact replica of Stark Tower, but there’s no name on it’s side. It’s unmarked, and towers over the buildings around it. 

The closer I get to it, the fewer people there are. It went from a bustling street right outside of the underworld’s headquarters to a ghost town. 

I stand outside the doors, staring at them. In the living world, these doors had constant traffic, and they always felt inviting. Here the cool glass remains motionless, and reflects my staring image.

I open the door, and walk inside only to be met with more silence. There is no Happy sitting at the security desk. No Pepper rushing out for a meeting. No employees on their way to grab a coffee or a sandwich. I stand completely alone in the middle of the empty atrium. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

No response.

I am completely alone.


	2. The Other Side of Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony befriends a cat.

_ Mr. Stark? Hey, Mr. Stark. Can you hear me? It’s Peter. Hey...We won, Mr. Stark… We won, Mr. Stark. We won. You did it, sir. You did it. I’m sorry… don’t... _

_ Hey… Tony, look at me. We’re going to be okay. You can rest now. _

I bolt upright, my chest pounding, and I whip off the comforter letting it fall to the ground. I am used to the intense panic that follows a nightmare, but I usually remember what haunts my dreams. I try to rack my brain for some remnant of the night, but nothing comes except the sense of fear. A fear that I have no memory of ever experiencing. Something more terrifying than New York. I shudder, and push the thought to the back of my mind.

I need a shower. I make my way to the bathroom with a change of clothes that I found in a dresser. I strip, and actually look at myself for the first time since I got here. My eyes instantly flit towards my chest where I expect to see a jagged scar. It’s there, but it’s so faint that if you weren’t looking for it you would never realize it was there. I instantly check for the other scars that litter my body. These are even fainter, or in some cases don’t exist. 

The only thing that looks out of place is the slight darkening of my skin on the right half of my body. It looks like I accidentally fell asleep in the sun and got a bizarre tan line. Is this the wound that killed me?

The panic starts to rise again, and I stubbornly push it back down and splash some water on my face. I turn the knob on the shower, and let the water get scalding hot before I get in. The heat feels good against my skin, and helps me to relax. I let my mind wander away from my current situation, and instead focus on the feeling of the water as it pelts against me.

I finish my shower, and just as I step out onto the plush bath mat, I hear someone at the door. I open my mouth to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to identify the visitor, only to realize my mistake. Wrapping a towel around myself quickly, I walk briskly towards the door. I search in vain for a peep hole, but there isn’t one. What sort of security does this place have? Then I realize that I’m dead. Could I die again? Could I be injured in the afterlife? I think back to how my skin burned when I tried to reenter the living world. I could be hurt, but I also had healing abilities faster than Parker’s.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door, and I’m stunned to see who stands on my doorstep.

“Maximoff?” I gape. The young man greets me with a sheepish smile.

“Stark.”

I stare at him, not having prepared myself to see the people that I had thought I’d lost. Reflecting on it now, that was rather stupid. Of course I would run into people that I knew. I start making a mental list of all the dead people I know, and start to feel very overwhelmed. I blame myself for many of their deaths. How do I approach them with that sort of guilt occupying my heart? How do I even start to apologize to the man who stands before me? I know I wasn’t the one who fired the gun, but it was my tech that started him down the life he ended up living. My fault.

“I-- uh-- just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I know how overwhelming it can all be. I just wanted to let you know that there are lots of people here that can help you adjust. They all know what you did, Stark. Up there, I mean. They’re grateful.”

“Killing Thanos, you mean?” I say, still not sure about the circumstances of my death.

“Yes, but also returning those who had been lost during the first great battle against the mad Titan.”

“The vanished?”

“Yeah-- I heard that’s what you guys called them. Down here we called them the statues. They appeared all through the city streets, lifeless, and rigid. For five months we grieved over them, thinking that they would remain that way forever.”

“Five months? They were gone for five years,” I say, confused.

“Not down here. Time moves slower here. For me, I’ve been down here eight months. For you, I’ve been gone almost a decade.”

“...Which means I’ve been dead almost a full week.”

Pietro pauses to do the mental math.

“Yeah, you have, sorry. But you’ve got to let go of that world, Stark. It will drive you mad if you obsess over what you left behind. There is nothing you can do for your family or the Avengers anymore. You’ve got to start a new life down here, or at least try to reconnect with people you know down here.”

I wasn’t listening anymore. I had been dead a week? Then I had a horrible thought. I had been so preoccupied with my own death that I hadn’t thought about what had occurred after I died. What had happened up top? Were Pepper and Morgan okay? Was Peter?

I stumble back to the bedroom, and throw on some clothes, ignoring Pietro who had followed me inside. 

I had to find someone. Someone who was there. Someone who had died after me.

I need to know if they're alive. If they’re okay.

I jog out of the penthouse, and move quickly towards the elevator.

“Stark? Stark! We’re here for you! I’ll leave my address, so you know where to find me!” Pietro calls after me.

I have to get out of this place. Pietro’s neighborly demeanor reminds me too much of Steve. The tower reminds me too much of Pepper. The loneliness reminds me too much of my adolescence. 

I need a drink. A drink, and someone, anyone, who can give me answers.

I stumble out onto the street, and I realize how clean it is compared to the trash heaps that litter New York’s curbs. I had expected it to be the morning, and for the sun to be beating down on my skin, but now I realize that this city of the dead remains in a perpetual night. It’s lit only by a strange soft glow from an unknown source.

I pick a direction and start aimlessly walking in my quest to find alcohol and answers.

My journey starts to look hopeless very quickly. The shops that line the city streets are filled with things like puppies, sweets, and juices . There are no shady bars or obnoxiously loud clubs. I can’t even find a damn coffee shop! 

I’m just about to give up, when I pass an alley and see something out of the corner of my eye. A sleek, black cat is staring at me with it’s head cocked to one side as if to say, “What took you so long?” Not being an animal lover, the sight is quite unsettling. 

The cat saunters up to me, never breaking eye contact. It pauses for a brief moment, making sure it has my attention, and then turns walking back the way it came. I have a mini debate on whether I think this cat is magical and trying to lead me somewhere, or if I’m having a complete mental breakdown from caffeine withdrawal and lack of a beating heart. Not wanting to return the way I came, I settle on the former.

I chase after the cat as its small dark form becomes harder and harder to see in the dim alley. It’s only then that I register that the soft glow of the city is gone, and I’m moving into an area of complete darkness. After a few more seconds of straining my eyes to keep a visual on the cat, I lose sight of it completely and I am plunged into total darkness. I’m thinking of turning back when I feel the cat brush against the side of my leg, alerting me to its presence. Slowly, I make my way forward, being mindful not to step on the small animal that trots by my feet.

After several minutes of fumbling through the dark, I start to make out shadows once more. I am unsure about whether it is my eyes finally adjusting to the darkness, or if a new light source has been introduced. I see the cat sprint ahead, and it disappears.

“Hey! I thought we were friends! Friends don’t leave friends stranded in the dark!! Come back!” 

My shouting doesn’t bring the cat back, and I am unsure if I will be able to traverse the darkness back through the alley without my guide, so I continue forward cautiously. Thankfully, it starts to get lighter and lighter the further I go, until I find myself looking at the source of the light.

I have made my way out of the twisting alley, onto a narrow deserted street. Down the center of the road is a blue glowing line about half a foot wide. It goes as far as I can see in both directions.

The cat sits on the other side of it, with its tail swaying back and forth. The soft blue light is reflected in the cats startling green eyes.

“What is this?” I ask the cat, even though I’m certain I will get no response. The light reminds me of the luminescence that my arc reactor used to give off. I wonder what type of energy this line was using. Did this world obey the laws of physics, or were there untapped energy sources present here that would benefit the living?

The cat meows impatiently. I raise my hand and place it nervously over the line, recalling what had happened to it only half a day ago. Nothing happens, so I slowly walk across it.

I instantly start to wonder if this is one of the neighborhoods that Reaper had informed me about. Unlike the other clean, glowing neighborhood, this one is grimy and lit up by harsh, flickering fluorescents. The sounds of arguing are echoing through the streets, and rats run alongside the curb. The cat pounces at one of them, catching it between its paws.

“Where did you lead me to?” I murmur to the animal, taking in my surroundings. It trots up to me and drops the dead rat at my feet. I grimace, and step over the carcass as I start making my way down the street. The cat picks the rat up in its mouth and follows at my side.

It doesn’t take long before I see a way to accomplish my goal. A bright, green neon sign flashes  _ The Silver Tongued Serpent _ . I’ve seen enough bars in my life to recognize one, and I make my way towards the entrance. 

The cat leaps up onto a fire escape, and darts into an open window above the bar.  _ It must live here _ , I think,  _ Either that, or the bar owner is about to get a very nasty surprise.  _

Not once in my entire life did I ever consider that aliens would be part of the afterlife, but as I make my way into the bar, I can tell that I was very wrong in overlooking such a vast number of the universe’s populace. While there are a fair amount of humans, or at least humanoids, a fair amount of the patrons are definitely not from planet Earth. 

I recognize some races such as the Chitauri, the Kree, and the Dark Elves, but there are others that cause me to stare. Just how many races were out there that we still didn’t know about? 

I start to become uncomfortable as I look around because not only am I recognizing alien races, I am also starting to identify familiar faces. Doctor Zola and Alexander Pierce sit in a dark corner booth behind a table of interesting individuals that include a large horned fire monster, a hooded man with blue skin and black face paint, and a thin woman who is wearing a headdress that resembles a large, pointy spider.

I turn and duck my head, not wanting to be recognized, and make my way through the crowd towards the bar. Spotting a bar stool next to a towering, ice-blue giant, I sit down.

“Another Bloody Asgardian, Laufey?” A young, male bartender asks my neighbor, already starting to assemble a dark red cocktail. The giant named Laufey grunts in approval, “Anything for you, sir?”

I take my eyes off of Laufey, and look at the smiling employee as he wipes his hand on a dishtowel that is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. 

“Whiskey?” I ask, not sure what sort of alcohol the afterlife possesses. 

“You’ve got it.”

I sigh in relief. At least one thing is starting to go my way, even if I am surrounded by some of the most hated beings in the universe. It wasn’t until my fourth whiskey that I abandoned all pretenses of trying to lie low.

“So, did you die recently?” I ask the bartender. He laughs.

“You know, people usually refrain from asking that sort of question. It’s like asking someone their age. It’s a social faux pas. You’re lucky I don’t care about that sort of thing, or I could have cut you off out of spite. But, yeah, I don’t really care that much. It’s been a while. I’ve been down here for three years.”

“So, you died in the eighties? Huh. Why does time work differently here? It this some other dimension that runs alongside our own?”

“No one knows where we are, or when we are, or really anything about this place. The only people who are truly okay with the ambiguity of this place are the people who lived on Sakaar.”

“Sakaar?”

“Yeah. Never heard of it? You can ask Topaz about it if she comes in tonight. It doesn’t surprise me that you haven’t heard of it, though. Even if you are part of the Avengers, the people who live on Earth are very clueless about the rest of the universe.”

My heart seems to stop beating.

“You know who I am?” I ask, regretting all the alcohol that I’ve consumed as I tense, waiting for a fight. Laufey, who undoubtedly has been eavesdropping on our conversation lets out a deep chuckle.

“Everyone in this bar knows who you are, Stark,” he says in a deep rumbling voice, “They’ve all been watching you since the moment you set foot in the door. It’s not often we get visitors from the other side of town.”

I look around the room, assessing the situation. I make eye contact with several people, but they all look away quickly.

“Relax,” Laufey grunts. He picks up his glass, and finishes his drink, “No one is going to try anything. Not here, at least. Bar rules. If you make a scene, you get kicked out, and this is the only bar in this godsforsaken place. My son has some very harsh policies set in place.”

I warily turn back around to face my sixth drink, taking my eyes off of the crowd.

“Your son runs this place?” I ask, picturing a slightly smaller, but equally terrifying, blue giant. Laufey nods. I finish my sixth drink, trying to get rid of my uneasy feelings, and flag down the bartender for my seventh, “You said you don’t get many visitors from my side of town. Why?”

“Most people don’t even know how to get here,” the bartender chimes in, “and those who do, don’t typically want to be here. It’s a rougher crowd. I think most people are scared they’re going to be murdered, ironically. Plus, it’s not as clean. How’d you end up getting here?”

“A cat,” I say, probably sounding like a lunatic. Laufey rolls his eyes, and mumbled something under his breath. The bartender smiles. I realize I’ve missed something.

“What?” I ask, “You know the cat, don’t you? It lives here. Above the bar.”

“Yes,” the man smiles, refilling my drink, “It’s the owners. They’re… mischievous-- the cats. They get themselves into lots of trouble. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, though. The cat probably thought it would be funny if you ended up here with all of your enemies. A cruel joke.”

“Sounds like the owner is a lovely guy,” I say sarcastically. I’m starting to feel really dizzy, and a bit nauseated. I guess that’s what happens when you drink liquor like its a juice box.

“Speak of the devil, here he comes now. Evening, sir.”

I try to look up to see who runs this place, but my head is spinning. The faces in the room start to blur together. The sounds start to become more and more indistinct. I laugh, realizing that I just got drunk with a room full of my worst enemies. And that’s when I black out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated! <3 
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day :)


	3. The Bartender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony runs into an old "friend".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! <3 
> 
> I hope you like this next chapter!

Something is jabbing me in the ribs. Repeatedly.

“Pepper… I need a few more minutes… I think--I think Rhodey and I had one too many…”

Another hard jab.

“Pepper…!” I groan.

I cautiously open my eyes, trying to block out as much light as possible. My head is throbbing. That’s when I realize that I’m on a gross sticky floor. And then I remember  _ exactly _ where I am. 

I bolt upright, ready to fight off my foes. Instead, my stomach lurches from the sudden movement, and I’m vomiting profusely all over the ground.

“I am not cleaning that up,” drawls a familiar voice. I look up to find Loki staring down at me with a look of disgust on his face. He is wearing an apron while holding a mop in one hand and a bucket in the other. I realize that he has been the one stabbing me. Loki’s cat sits on the bar, licking its paw lazily. The rest of the bar is empty. Loki thrusts the mop in my direction, “Clean up your mess, and then leave. Your presence is ruining the reputation of my establishment.”

I ignore him, and get to my feet.

“I didn’t realize that you would be here. For once I think I would have preferred that you had lived,” I say cooly. Loki was one of the last people I wanted to run into down here.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he replies, dropping the cleaning supplies at my feet when I refuse to take them, “Unfortunately, we’re both here, but that doesn’t mean you have to be  _ here _ . Your virtuous qualities are going to drive away my paying customers. They expect a certain level of immorality.”

I let out a snort.

“I’m immoral,” I assure him, “I guess you weren’t there for the 90’s… good times. Gorgeous women, lots of booze, loud music… You would have loved it.”

“Please,” Loki says with a dramatic eye-roll “you do realize how you died, don’t you?”

“I killed Thanos. Big deal. I murdered thousands with my weapons technology. People die when they’re around me...” I realize that I had never admitted to that part of my life out loud before, or at least not in such a blunt manner. Damn the booze, and Loki, and his annoying habit of getting under my skin. I slowly get to my feet, gripping the bar for support. The cat sniffs my hand, interested. 

“You may have killed a few thousand, Stark, but you saved trillions. It’s honestly revolting how good of a person you are. It makes me want to gag. That also makes me want to gag,” he says pointing to my vomit, “Will you please, for the love of gods-- Oh fine, just give me the wretched thing!” Loki picks up the mop and starts to clean up my mess.

“I thought you liked a bit of disorder. Aren’t you the god of like 52 card pickup or something?”

Loki looks at me with a confused expression, then returns to his work, clearly not wanting to admit that he didn’t understand the jab. 

“Mischief,” he says, exasperated, “I am the god of mischief. That does not mean, however, that I want to live in a putrid-smelling sea of your vomit. Now excuse me, while I dispose of this.”

Loki heads for a door towards the back of the bar, while I stay where I’m at, rubbing my temples. How many drinks did I have? Why am I even here? I should be taking up Pietro’s offer. Instead I’m chit-chatting with one of the people I loath most in the world-- underworld?-- whatever it is. I groan as I stumble towards the door. I still feel very woozy. 

Before I can reach the door, Loki’s cat leaps off of the table, and saunters right in front of me. I try to step around it, but the cat moves in front of me once again. 

“Fen,” Loki’s voice is stern as he tries to get the cat’s attention, “let him leave.”

The cat seems to consider Loki before moving away, however not before brushing up against me and letting out a deep purr. 

I open the door, expecting to see sunlight, but am met with the perpetual darkness once again. 

“What time is it?” I ask without turning around, “How do you keep track of time? It’s never light down here.”

“We don’t.”

I turn back inside, now thoroughly intrigued.

“Your bartender said he had been dead for three years. How would he know that if you don’t keep track of time.”

Loki sighs like he can’t be bothered to explain.

“It’s a rough estimate. We have a general feeling of how much time has passed. We can also figure out how much time has passed in the living realm by talking to the recently deceased like yourself, but no one knows for sure.”

“How do you know when to close your bar?”

“It never closes.”

I glance around the empty room, and raise an eyebrow. Loki rolls his eyes, and lets out a sigh.

“Like I told you before, you are driving all my customers away. No one wants to drink with the savior of the galaxy. Most the people who come into my bar are murders. You are the complete opposite. It makes them feel guilty, or disgusted, or angry, or disgusted. Honestly, mainly disgusted. My patrons are truly evil people.”

“But I am NOT a good person,” I practically yell, and then in a quieter voice, “I’m not.”

“Yes, Stark, you are.”

There is a long drawn out silence where neither of us move. Finally, I turn toward the door once more.

“I’ll just go then--” I rub my eyes as I realize I have no idea how to get back to fucking Redeemed Savior Road, “I--uh-- which way do I go?”

“Fen,” Loki looks sternly at the cat, and nods his head in my direction. The cat avoids Loki’s eyes, “You started this.” Fen gets up and runs into the other room, clearly not wanting to get involved. Loki runs a hand down his face. He walks behind the bar and removes his apron so that he is left in black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. He also picks up a small snake from a tank the sits behind the bar. 

“Come on,” Loki says, beckoning me to follow him out of the bar. I walk out silently. He puts his hand on the door handle , whispers something, and lets the snake slither off of his arm and onto the cool metal. The snake weaves itself into an intricate pattern around the handle before turning into silver, forming a lock. 

“Impressive,” I say, genuinely amazed.

“It’s child’s magic,” he replies, “This way,” and he starts to walk down the road. I have a hazy memory of the street, but I wouldn’t have been able to find the alley without him. It is as dark as it was before. Loki stops, clearly insinuating that he is done being my guide.

“I won’t be able to find my way back,” I say, “I hardly made it through, even when your cat was guiding me.”

“Well, I can’t go through. I’ll die,” he says it as if it is overtly obvious.

“You’re already dead,” I point out.

“Dying here isn’t the same as dying in the living realm. If you die here, you cease to exist. It is a lot more difficult to die here , but still…” He trails off like he wants to say more, “Just keep walking. You will find your way back. Trust me.”

The last thing I want to do is to trust Loki, but the news that I could still die in the afterlife made me exceptionally more keen on getting away from all of my enemies that were lurking somewhere nearby. 

“Well-- bye then.” I mumble, and I head across the glowing line and into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed the chapter! It motivates me to get the next chapter done :)


	4. Never Will I Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes for a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for all the support that this has gotten so far! 
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that I probably won't be posting during the week due to work/school, but I'll try to have chapter five up ASAP! 
> 
> Thanks again! I hope you enjoy this next installment. <3

I pace back and forth in my empty lab, wringing my hands behind my back. My footsteps echo in the vast vacant space. After I had returned from the other side of town, I discovered that my workshop is completely empty. No wires, no scraps of metal, no welding torches, no Dum-E 2.0, nothing. I had reached out Pietro, and he had told me that this world doesn’t run on electricity. 

My knowledge is obsolete. I thought I could cope. I thought I would be fine. That was three weeks ago...eight months in the living world.

I had missed Morgan’s fifth birthday. I had missed a lot of things, and I was going to miss a lot more. I would never see Peter get into MIT. I would never see Morgan grow up. I would never grow old with Pepper. 

I have no way to distract myself from these harsh realities. 

I sink to the ground letting my hands rest upon the cool tile floor. Time passes, but it is impossible to tell exactly how long. A few hours maybe? 

I let out a dark chuckle. Is this what I am going to be doing for the rest of eternity? Pacing in a cold, empty version of Avenger’s Tower thinking about what I will never be able to do? Reaper had said there was no hell, but this sure feels like it.

I would go outside, but I would hardly have a moment to myself. Strangers keep coming up to me thanking me for saving their families or friends, or avenging their deaths. I smile and nod, but I still don’t even really understand what I did, and I know that I don’t deserve it. Any of it.

I don’t deserve the praise. I don’t deserve the large luxurious tower. I don’t deserve to live in this neighborhood. 

I spent the last several years of my life trying to atone in some small way for all of the horrible things that I had done. But there is no way to make-up for it all. Not even if I saved every goddamn soul in the universe. I’ve ruined people’s lives, and there is nothing I can do to change that.

Eventually I can’t stand it anymore, and decide that I need to get out of the tower. I need to be by other people, even if I don’t want to interact with them. I put on a dark sweatshirt, and pull the hood up in a poor attempt at a disguise. 

The streets are fairly quiet when I arrive downstairs. I keep my face turned down, and pick a random direction to start walking. My thoughts stray towards home, and a deep ache fills my chest. I walk faster.

I’ll never teach Morgan to drive. I’ll never see Happy retire. 

I walk faster.

I’ll never become a grandfather. I’ll never experience old age.

Faster.

I’ll never go on another mission with the team. I’ll never build another suit.

Faster.

I’ll never-- _ WHAM. _

I collide into someone as I round a corner. We both go sprawling to the ground. The man had been carrying groceries, which now litter the pavement.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, as I start to gather up the food, and put it back into the brown paper bag.

“It’s quite alright,” says a soft voice. My hands freeze, and I look up to get a better look at the man.

“Dr.Yinsen,” I have no idea what to say. I stare at him dumbfounded. 

“Stark,” the scientist smiles, and takes the bag from me, “It’s been a long time, especially for you. I heard what you did. I’m glad you made use of your time, Stark. I was glad to hear that you made it out of that cave.”

“I’m so sorry, Yinsen. I never wanted you to die like that--”

Dr. Yinsen waves his hand dismissively.

“I told you, I was going to see my family. There was no reason for me to leave that cave. No one for me to go home to.”

“Did you find them? Your family?”

The man smiles, glancing down at the bag of groceries.

“You didn’t think this was all for me, did you? I’m making vegetable soup for my wife and daughters. It’s their favorite.”

“I’m glad you found your family, Yinsen. Tell them I said hello?”

“Tell them yourself. Come over for supper, and meet them. I’m sure they would all love to meet the great Tony Stark.”

I almost say yes. I long for human connection, but it wouldn’t be fair to Yinsen. He’s found his happily ever after. My mood would only cause his family stress. Plus it would remind me too much of eating dinner with Pepper and Morgan.

“I’m sorry, Yinsen, I have other plans. Raincheck?”

“No worries. We’ll see you next time. I’m happy we ran into each other. You are welcome in my home anytime. See you around, Stark.”

I nod farewell, and Yinsen continues his walk home to his family. I look around realising that I’m in an unfamiliar part of the neighborhood. How far had I walked? I can still see the tower looming in the distance, so I’m not worried about getting lost. 

I start my walk home, much more attentive to my surroundings. I feel slightly more at peace knowing that Dr. Yinsen has reunited with his family. Maybe, I should take a page from his book. Maybe I should track down my parents…

No, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet. 

I’m just going to have to accept the fact that I’m going to be alone for the time being. If Pepper lives to be eighty that’s only about three years in the underworld give or take. Only seven years until Morgan has lived a full life. That’s not that long. Will I recognize them, though? My little girl will be an old woman in less than a decade. She’ll be older than me.

“Goddamnit!” I yell, kicking the wall because there is nothing else to kick. 

I would do anything just to see them again. Just to be there. Now I know how Clint must have felt during those five years. No wonder he had gone rogue…

I round the corner of the street where I had first entered the underworld. There are only three other people on the street. I stare longingly at the door that separates me and the living world. The words “No Re-Entry” are painted in large bold letters. 

And then out of nowhere someone is walking up to the door. I realize I know them. I start walking quickly across the street.

“Hey!” I yell, but they are already going through the door, and it is swinging shut.

“Loki!” I try once more to get his attention, but he’s gone.

I tug on the door in vain. It won’t open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment letting me know how you like the story so far! It helps me stay motivated to get chapters out quickly! 
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day! <3


	5. Borrowed Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tries to uncover Loki's secret, while Loki makes some hard choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: ***TRIGGERS!: Suicide*** Please take care of yourselves, and don't read if you think you might be triggered. <3

I bang on the door several more times.

“Hey! God of being-a-pain-in-my-ass! Open up!” I start earning looks from the people walking by. I smile at them. Nothing to see here folks.

What was Loki up to? How did he get back into the underworld’s headquarters?

There was only one way to find out.

I continue walking back towards home, but instead of going to the tower, I walk past it. Now that I’m familiar with the surrounding neighborhood, it doesn’t take long for me to find the narrow alleyway. Someone is waiting for me when I arrive.

“You are definitely up to something,” I say to the cat who sits at the entrance of the backstreet. The cat gives me a knowing look, and then starts to head down the alley, leading me to the other side of town once again, “You must really like being around me, or you really want me to get murdered. I’m hoping it’s the former.”

The trip to the dividing line is much shorter this time, and I arrive at  _ The Silver Tongued Serpent _ in no time. The cat stays close to me, and is never further than arm’s reach. The patrons of the bar are similar to before. I recognize people from last time including Laufey, Zola, and Pierce. There are several new faces as well, including a muscular lady in yellow and black armor, white face paint, with her hair pulled into a tight bun. She is in deep conversation with Laufey. 

I approach the bar, and flag down the bartender after he has helped the woman with the pointy-spider headdress. He smiles at me, and picks up a bottle of whiskey.

“Same as last time, Stark?” he asks, picking up a glass. Several heads turn in my direction at the sound of my name.

“No,” I say curtly. I’m not here to drink. “Have you seen Loki?”

“The boss isn’t here,” he says quickly, “How about that drink?”

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Out.” The bartender is visibly going on the defensive. I realise that I am right about one thing. Loki is up to something.

“Out where?”

“I don’t really think that is any of your concern, Mr. Stark. When the boss returns, you may speak with him. Drink?”

I hold up my hand to tell him no.

“When will he be back? It’s important that I speak with him.”

The bartender sighs and pours the whiskey for himself.

“Hell if I know.”

***********************************************************

POV- Loki

The hot, humid air makes my trip almost insufferable. I needed to come back, though. It had been too long.

It takes a while to track down Thor. I find him in New Asgard visiting Brunnhilde. I spend some time watching him converse with the Valkyrie. They are laughing about something, but I am too far away to hear what amuses them. He doesn’t look well. He has gained weight since I last laid my eyes on him, and he is considerably less groomed. Was this a result of the war? Will he be happy to see me?

I walk down a small dirt path that leads into town. Brunnhilde spots me first. She is in shock, but her expression quickly transforms into disgust. Thor, noticing her expression, turns to see me.

There is pain in his eyes. Deep inside me I feel a stab of guilt.

“Hello, brother! It is wonderful to see you!” I say while I hold my arms out wide for an embrace. When I get close enough, he slaps me hard across the face. 

“How dare you?” He yells. His deep voice vibrates with anger, “It has been years, brother! Years! And now you show up like nothing has transpired? I watched you die! Again, I might add. How dare you arrive in this manner! How dare you keep me in the dark! You know how much it pains me, Loki. I thought we were done with this charade. I thought you had learned your lesson. I mourned for you, brother. I..I--”

There were tears leaking from my brother’s eyes. Brunnhilde put a hand on Thor’s shoulder in solidarity. 

“I think you should leave,” she says. Her voice is quiet, but the threat is there. I press on.

“I’m here on business, actually. I’m relinquishing my claim to the throne of Asgard.”

Brunnhilde scoffs and Thor gives me a quizzical look.

“What claim? You have no claim. You aren’t even Asgardian,” the Valkyrie says harshly. Thor looks like he is going to say something, and gods know I want to as well, but I grit my teeth and smile.

“Then we have no quarrel. It was lovely to see both of you again. Brunnhilde. Thor.”

I start to walk back the way I came.

“That’s it?” Thor yells at me, “You’re leaving? Do you not care for me at all?”

I don’t turn around. I can’t have my emotions betray me.

“Like I said, I’m here on business, not a social call. I’ve got lives to go ruin. You understand, right?” I pause, not sure if I should say the next part, “I don’t think I’ll be back here. There is nothing left for me. It was nice to see you, brother. Truely.”

There is a shocked silence, and I keep walking. It’s true that Asgard has nothing for me now. My family no longer resides there. Brunnhilde will make a good queen, and the people of Asgard will thrive, and they will do it without me. 

*****Several Days Later

“Have you seen my suit? I can’t find it anywhere,” Peter asks Happy, who is checking emails on his phone while drinking his morning coffee. 

“Have you checked the wash? May threw in some laundry yesterday.” Happy responds without taking his eyes off of his screen.

“Yes, I checked the washer. It’s not there,” Peter sighs.

“Dryer?”

Peter opens up the dryer. There is a large bundle of clothes, and among them is the super suit. Peter yanks it free, and holds it up to examine it.

“May!” Peter calls once more, “May, this can’t go in the dryer! It will shrink!”

May finally appears, brushing her hair.

“What’s that, Peter? I couldn’t hear you in the other room.”

“My suit can’t go in the dryer.”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was in with the rest of the clothes. Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be babysitting Morgan this afternoon? You better not be taking that little girl on patrol with you, Peter.”

“That’s tomorrow, May,” Happy chimes in, “I’ve got Morgan today. I’m picking her up from Rhodey’s place. Peter’s watching her tomorrow, and then Pepper will be back from her trip late tomorrow night.”

“Well, I still don’t want that sweet innocent girl going anywhere near the hero stuff, okay? You are lucky that I let you go near any of it after what happened in Europe,” May says, waving her hairbrush in Peter’s direction.

“Yes! Trust me, May. Morgan is going to be in good hands. Nothing is going to happen to her.”

_ “Hello, Loki. Time is wearing thin for you, don’t you think?” _

I almost jump at the voice in my head. Peter must have sensed something, because his head turns in my direction. I leave before he can discover my presence.

I arrive at the cliff where father died, and stare out at the sea.

“How will it happen?” I say to the open air around me, “I’ve made no enemies this time. I have no one to provoke.”

“ _ There is always your brother.” _

“I’ve told you before, I will not involve him in this.”

_ “Then you will just have to do it yourself.” _

I had been afraid of that. 

My skin burns, and I know that I have only minutes to make up my mind. I wince as pain shoots through my head. 

“ _ You could just stop. Let me claim your soul, Loki. This has gone on long enough.” _

“Never,” I hiss, and I jump off of the cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! 
> 
> *hugs Loki*


	6. Death & Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki suffers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Drink Responsibly***

***POV Loki

I gasp for air while clawing at my throat, desperate for oxygen. I feel frozen, except for a warm spot in my abdomen: the stab wound. Pain sears through my skull, where it had been crushed against the rocks. All of my deaths collide into one symphony of pain. I try to scream, but my vocal chords have been crushed. I writhe on the floor until the pain starts to subside, and the injuries start to heal. I am left panting on the floor, drenched in sweat.

“Welcome back, Loki,” says Reaper from behind his desk.

“Fuck you,” I try to say, but I can hardly get the words out. My voice is rough, and my throat is raw.

“Do you ever wonder how much more of this your body can take? There must be a limit, even for you.”

I drag myself to my feet, clutching my side, panting. The room spins, and for a moment I think I’m going to pass out, but Reaper slowly comes into focus and my vision stabilizes.

“Let me leave,” I hiss in a whisper. I need water. Lots of water. The wall behind me remains doorless. Reaper stares at me hungrily. 

“One of these days, Loki, I’ll have your soul. One day you won’t be able to take the pain anymore. That day is sooner than you think. I saw your eyes on that cliffside. You weren’t going to jump. Your time is running short, God of Mischief. Make good use of it while you still can,” Reaper flicks his hand towards the wall, and the door materializes. 

I stumble out of it, leaning on the wall for support. Was that trip worth it? The next one will only be worse.

I push open the door that leads out into the underworld. Slowly, step by step, I make my way back home.

***POV Tony

I drum my fingers on the bar impatiently. It had been hours since I arrived at  _ The Silver Tongued Serpent _ and everyone had refused to give me the slightest hint about where Loki might be. I had met some new patrons, however.

I figured out that the woman in the pointy-spider headdress is actually Loki’s older sister, Hela. Well, not actually, since Loki was adopted, but that didn’t make her any less intimidating. I met a woman named Topaz, who tried to explain how time worked on Sakaar, but she is obviously not well versed in physics. The fire demon is named Surtur. Apparently he murdered Hela, but Hela and Surtur have no hard feelings, and are on a quest to take over the underworld. 

There is a man in the corner with a fishbowl on his head, giving me the stare down. I am just about to walk over and ask him what his deal is when Loki finally walks in.

He does not look good. He is paler than normal, and he is visibly shaking, although he tries to hide it. He stumbles over to the bar, and whispers something to the bartender. I notice that patches of his skin have turned a bright blue. Laufey must notice this also because his eyes glint with-- concern, maybe? It’s hard to say. Regardless, he stands to his full height, and slams his tankard onto the bar.

“Who here thinks they can drink more than me?!” He bellows, and all the eyes that were on Loki turn to him. No one chimes in, “Ha! I knew you low life scum don’t have it in you. You should all be drinking water! None of you can drink the real--”

Surtur stands up. Hela rolls her eyes.

“I’ll drink with you,” says the fire monster, “We will see who comes out on top.”

This charade gives Loki plenty of time to sneak into the back room with the bartender. Laufey and Surtur start helping themselves to drinks, while the bar’s crowd cheers them on. 

I feel a tug on my pant leg. Loki’s cat paces anxiously at my feet. I rise silently off of my barstool, and slip into the back room with the small animal close behind me.

The scene that I find stops me dead in my tracks, and the cat narrowly misses running into me. Loki lies on top of several crates that have been pushed together to form a makeshift bed. 

“I’m sorry, Jormungand...” Loki wheezes. The young bartender lies a damp cloth across Loki’s forehead.

“It’s alright. I just wish I could get you upstairs. It’s really not great for you to stay here.”

“Water…Please.”

The desperation in Loki’s voice is unsettling. I have never seen Loki in this much physical pain. Not even after he had been Hulk smashed. I start to feel a desire to leave, but Jormungand turns to face me.

“You shouldn’t be back here. This is for employee’s only,” The young man steps in front of his boss, sheilding Loki from view. He glares at me as if daring me to make a move.

“He can stay,” Loki starts coughing in obvious distress. The young man’s eyes go wide, and he sprints past me in search of water.

I stay rooted to the spot, but Loki’s cat jumps up onto the crates and settles into a ball on the god’s chest. Loki smiles.

“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?” I ask, looking for any signs of injury, but there isn’t even a paper cut on his body from what I can see.

“My body hit some rocks at a very high velocity.”

“You don’t have any bruises or broken bones, or at least nothing serious,” I state.

“Believe me, my skull is in a lot of little fragments at the moment. It is quite… uncomfortable,” Loki winces.

Jormungand sprints back into the room with a glass of water. Loki grabs it hastily, and starts to chug it, while his head is propped up by the bartender’s hand. Half way through the glass, Loki starts to cough violently. Several minutes pass before he regains his composure.

“If I ever run into that oversized-purple murderer again, I’ll kill him.  _ Properly. _ ” Loki says through gritted teeth, as he massages his throat.

“Just another hour, boss. It will pass. It always passes.”

“This happens often?” I say in disbelief.

“It’s happened once or twice,” Loki sits up carefully, the cat jumping to the floor. He looks me straight in the eye, “Jormungand, leave us.”

“But, boss, you’re--”

“I’ll be fine. I can’t die from these wounds. You know as well as I do. I need to talk to Stark.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading so far! Please let me know how you are liking it so far! Feedback helps, especially because I'm trying to be purposefully vague about certain plot points, but I understand that it might be hard to follow! I hope you all have a good day! :)


	7. A Lie I Wish I Didn't Have To Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets what he wants, and learns it isn't what he wanted.
> 
> *Warning! Gore*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! If you are a new reader, welcome! If you have been waiting for an update since October, I am soooo sorry! I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Again, I really apologize for the wait! I never plan on abandoning this fic, so even if there is a delay in posts, they will come eventually!! Anyway, I appreciate everyone's patience! <3

***POV Loki

“I owe you a debt, Stark,” I say once Jormungand has left the room. Stark looks a bit taken aback.

“A debt? Last time I checked we were fighting for opposing sides. You destroyed half of my city,” 

I shudder internally at the memory. The chitauri had been very...persuasive. 

“You saved the entire galaxy. Everyone owes you a debt in my opinion. I want to repay mine. I don’t like owing people, and repaying this debt was no easy task, believe me,” I hold up my arm where parts of my true form are visible. The blue looks like paint on my skin. I frown, and will it to return back to its typical state, but I’m not strong enough yet, “You helped my brother, and I am very grateful for that.”

“I’m not sure about that. I definitely did not help his drinking habit. Bruce was not happy with me for that.”

I roll my eyes dramatically at Stark.

“You saved Asgard, therefore making my brother very happy. You saved his friends. You saved entire planets, Stark. Entire solar systems. I want to repay you, so that I am no longer in your debt.”

“What could you even give me that I would want?” the billionaire says, sitting down on a crate.

“I know how your family is coping with your passing.”

This catches Stark’s attention. His brow furrows as he evaluates my statement. No doubt he is trying to detect a lie, but my eyes do not betray me. I am telling the truth. 

“So you ended up looking like a freezer-burned popsicle to find this out?” He is still suspicious, however he either decides he can trust me, or decides that he doesn’t care, because he looks down at his hands nervously and asks, “Are they happy? Are they safe?” 

“I don’t know about happy, but they are not unhappy. They are also alive, and healthy as far as I am able to discern. The spider-kid and your guard are taking turns looking after your daughter, while your wife is away.” The corner of Stark’s mouth curls upward, “Also, I’m fairly certain that your guard and the spider-kid’s guardian are spending their nights together in a very _ familiar _ way.”__

_ _Stark grins widely._ _

_ _“Happy and May? Huh. That’s great. Wow, that’s really great. I’m surprised that I didn’t see that coming,” a shift happens in Stark’s expression. He looks at me inquisitively. “You traveled back to the land of living, or whatever you want to call it, didn’t you? You know how to. That’s why you went through the door. Back to where Mr. Reaper’s office is. Tell me how you did it. Is there some magical password?... Wait, how did you even get to that side of town? I thought you said you would die.”_ _

_ _I frown. I thought this would have been enough. That Stark would be able to move on and be at peace. _ _

_ _“I think I’ve said enough. Jormungand?” I call out for the young man, still too weak to stand on my own._ _

_ _“Oh, come on! Don’t you think I deserve to see my kid? I saved the goddamn universe! How do you do it? How do you get through the door and pass the weird burning force field?”_ _

_ _“You can’t,” I say, easing myself off of the makeshift table, but keeping a very firm grip on it. I wince when my feet hit the floor. My entire weight is pressed against the crates, “Jormungand!”_ _

_ _“What do you mean, I can’t? You did! I saw you go through that door! I know that you went back. You’ve done it before, haven’t you? Thor told me stories of how you die and mysteriously show up unharmed. This is what you do, isn’t it? Travel back and forth as you see fit. I’m not asking for much. I just want to go back to my family. I want to live a peaceful life in that cabin. I want to see my little girl grow up, and I want to grow old with my wife! Just show me how! I know you can do it!”_ _

_ _“You can’t, Stark!” I yell, lashing out in frustration and pain. Stark recoils like a hurt puppy. I grip at my side, panting hard._ _

_ _I look sorrowfully into the eyes of the desperate man. I can tell he has been waiting to say this. But I can’t give him what he wants. Not the way he wants._ _

_ _Jormungand enters the room, and seeing me struggling to support myself, comes to my aid._ _

_ _“Sorry, I was trying to deal with the mess in the other room. Your father knows how to host quite the drinking party,” he says as a quick apology. Jormungand bears all of my weight and we start towards the door._ _

_ _“You can’t do it, Stark,” I say in a quieter voice. I lower my guard and show him my true form. My blue skin takes over, and with it all of its scars. From his face I can tell that he knows how scars work here. He knows that they fade significantly with death. Mine are just as gruesome as the days I got them, each death permanently marking me. I look like a living corpse. My head is bashed in, my neck is broken, one of my eyes dangles precariously from its socket… and those are just the injuries that he can see. They are a reminder of my limited existence. A reminder of what awaits me. As soon as I know he has seen it, I morph back to the form he is familiar with. “This is the effect of having your body ripped apart and sewn back together several times. I can hardly even control my own form anymore. I am a god, Stark. You are mortal. Your body is too weak. You can’t do it. You can’t go back.”_ _

_ _I can tell that his heart shatters in that moment. He had so much riding on me saying yes. Now he is lost. More broken than the day he arrived._ _

_ _“Let me buy you a drink,” I say as Jormungand helps guide me into the other room. He helps me sit down at the bar. Stark follows silently._ _

_ _I quickly pour two glasses of whiskey, and place one in front of Stark. I take the other one, and sip it experimentally. It’s strong, but I like it._ _

_ _Stark downs the entire drink in one go without saying a word._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter back, and boy is it heavyyy


	8. Won't You Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki does his best to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels great to be writing again! I can't wait to get the next few chapters uploaded, so without further ado, enjoy!

*** POV Loki

A week goes by and I hear nothing from Stark. I try to send Fenrir to go check on him, but the cat is stubborn and doesn’t listen to me. I start to worry that he won’t come back until one night he does. Stark comes into the bar and acts as if nothing happened.

“Whiskey,” he says, sitting down next to Quentin Beck. I give Beck a warning look knowing that he is likely to try and start something with Stark.

“What’s with the fish bowl?” Stark asks, glancing over at Beck while taking a drink of the whiskey that I poured him, “Do you have gills? Are you from the lost city of Atlantis or something?” 

Beck rolls his eyes.

“No. I’m from Ea--” 

“Eara,” I say quickly, talking over Beck, “It is a wonderful small planet that not many people have heard of. Isn’t that right, Beck?”

Quentin glares at me, “I think more people have heard of it than you might think, if you call it by its proper name.”

“Would you like another drink, Beck?” I say with a fake smile, “ Also, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I think my sister said she would like a word with you.”

I pour out a quick drink, and give it to Beck. I can see his little mortal mind trying to decide if he should stay, but eventually he decides he likes my establishment too much and doesn’t want to get kicked out. He leaves to find other company. I’m relieved that he does. I don’t need him bringing up how he almost killed the spider-child. If either of them lash out and start a fight, chaos will break loose as people try to join in. I have no desire to be mopping up everyone’s blood.

“Let me guess. He wants me dead,” Tony says in a deadpan voice. I pause before giving him the truth.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” I say with a sad smile.

“Unfortunately? Hmm...Is my charm slowly getting to you?” he says with a sad grin. “To be honest, I was hoping for a fight. I thought it might help me blow off some steam… clear my head.”

I frown, and look at him. I can tell that the last several days have been hard for him. It looks like he hasn’t showered or slept. His hair is a mess, and his clothes are askew. He keeps a firm grip on his glass of whiskey. I wave my hand and the glass vanishes.

“Hey!” he protests, “I was drinking that!”

“I won’t help you wallow in grief over your death. You died. All mortals do. You need to move on, Tony.”

His first name feels unfamiliar on my lips. He looks at me curiously, probably trying to figure out what mischief I’m trying to cause. The ironic thing is that for once in my life I’m not doing anything mischievous. I just don’t want to see him suffer. He helped my brother and our people. I don’t think I would admit it out loud, but I care for him. 

Tony rests his head on the bar. I pour him a glass of water to replace the glass I took. I hesitate before saying, “Why don’t you stay here tonight, Stark?”

That grabs his attention. Tony rests his chin on his hands, and looks up at me. 

“Are you trying to get in my pants, barkeep?” he says sarcastically while rolling his eyes. I hold my ground.

“No. I think you need someone to talk to, because clearly you don’t have that.”

This strikes a nerve. Stark sits up and says, “I have people to talk to here! Yinsen, Pietro, Coulson, my parents… Natasha.”

“Then ask yourself this: Why are you here? Why are you socializing with your worst enemies, instead of those you call friends?”

“Because there’s whiskey here...usually,” he grumbles, slouching back down against the bar. I give him a stern, disapproving glance while he continues, “Look, I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m not hanging out with Natasha, or eating dinner with Yinsen’s family, or reminiscing with Coulson.” 

I can tell that Stark is on the verge of tears.

“Stay here tonight. There is an extra bed, I have lots of snacks, a library full of books, and Fenrir.”

“The cat?”

“Yes, the cat.”

As if summoned by his name, Fenrir hops onto the bar and nuzzles Stark’s arms.

“I hate cats,” he grumbles as he scratches the small black animal behind his ears.

“So, you’ll stay.”

“Yeah… Yeah I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	9. I Would Do Anything For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki realizes that he might have caught some feelingsssss! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! *See End of Notes*
> 
> *Warning: Unhealthy "relationship" depicted

***POV Tony

After that night (or what I assumed to be night since there is no daylight here) I somehow just start living with Loki. I hadn’t realized how lonely I got in the tower, and surprisingly Loki isn’t always an asshole. He is actually a pretty decent roommate. He doesn’t compare to Rhodey, of course, but I had expected a lot worse. Much more melodrama and theatrics.

I have been staying at his place for two weeks now. He makes me help out at the bar in lieu of rent. Loki acts much more like a coworker than a boss, but every once in a while Loki will go ask me to grab something from the back while he takes care of the customers. He thinks I don’t notice, but I know he does this whenever someone who has a particular hatred for me comes up to the bar. Sometimes I recognize them, other times they are strangers. Most patrons don’t bother me, though. They are either grateful to me for taking down Thanos, or they are indifferent to my existence.

After several hours of work Loki will let Jormungand take over, and we will retreat to the loft that is situated above the bar. Loki’s decorating style surprised me the first time I was up here. It’s very modern and industrial while still appearing warm and inviting. 

Once upstairs, we mostly do our own things. Loki spends his time experimenting in the kitchen, while I peruse his library. Most of the books are in languages that I can’t read, but there is a small section dedicated to Earth books. By some magical property there is a different selection each night. The only way to ensure that a book doesn’t disappear is to take it off the shelf. 

It’s strange, but I don’t miss the other side of town. It was barren and cold. Lifeless even. At The Silver Tongued Serpent there are always people. Always something to do or someone to talk to. 

Sometimes I feel guilty that I’m here, and not with Natasha. I haven’t even seen her since I died, but then again where was she? Why hadn’t she come to see me like Pietro? Maybe she wanted to distance herself from everything she had done in her life. Maybe she wanted a peaceful afterlife where she wasn’t an assassin or an Avenger. Sometimes when I worked the bar, I would feel that too. Sometimes I wish that just once no one would know me as Iron Man or Tony Stark. That they would know me as Anthony, the nice sometimes kind of snarky man serving them their drink.

Towards the end of one of our shifts, the bar is almost empty. Hela and Surtur are the only ones that remain, and they whisper over blueprints as they drink “1000 souls of your enemy” which is just absinthe mixed with cranberry juice. 

Loki is looking at me with a frown on his face, which is unusual for him. Loki is typically very difficult to read.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” I ask while wiping down the bar.

Loki jerks slightly as he is brought back from whatever deep recess of his mind that he was just in.

***POV Loki

I shouldn’t be thinking this. I should NOT be thinking this. It is basically murder, because if he knew he would do it in a heartbeat. If he knew that he could be back in the arms of his loving wife he would do it. Wouldn’t he? Even if it meant the next time he died he would no longer exist?

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” 

Stark pulls me from my thoughts. Do I tell him?

“Just thinking…” I murmur. I notice that Stark has gotten a lot healthier looking since he has started living here. He looks happier. I will not be the one that ruins his afterlife. He deserves his happiness.

“Care to share with the class?”

“I’m just contemplating whether or not you should be working the bar,” I lie while absent mindedly running my fingers over the scar on my abdomen. He wouldn’t suffer like me. If he went back, he wouldn’t have to fight for his soul every day that remained of his existence. But he wouldn’t have a soul at all.

“I like the bar. It gives me something to do. You don’t need to worry about me, boss. Hardly anyone is harassing me, and it’s not like I’m going to die again,” he chuckles darkly.

You might, though, and that is the problem. You might die, Tony, and it would be all my fault. I shouldn’t have sent Fenrir to find you. I should never have brought you to this bar. I should never have gone back to the living for you. I should never have told you my secret.

Because now I see you. The real you. You are kind, authentic, and selfless. You are arrogant, stubborn, and emotionally distant. And I see now that you are sad, but you won’t say it. You smile, but it’s hollow, except in rare moments. A moment like yesterday when I made you coffee just the way you like it, and you were surprised but grateful.

These past few weeks I’ve come to realize that I like you, Tony Stark. If our lives hadn’t been so drastically different than maybe I would have realized sooner, but I didn’t know you in life. I knew Iron Man.

Tony Stark is a different man, and I’ve finally met him here in my small underworld bar.

“I don’t mind if you stay. I would like you to stay,” I say. He smiles a real smile.

But it doesn’t matter what I think, because you love your wife. You would do anything to get back to her and your daughter. And I have a way for you to go back.

I would end up all alone, with a sister who doesn’t love me, a father who abandoned me, and a parent who seeks to devour my soul as punishment for mistakes that I have made.

But I have to tell him.

“Would you go back if you could?” I ask him, observing how his body language shifts from relaxed to on guard.

“You mean become the next King of the North?” I look at him with confusion. He amends, “Rise from the dead? Yes, of course, but you said that wasn’t possible.”

I pause, picking my next words carefully.

“What if you could go back and live out the rest of your life with your wife and daughter, but that was it. After that there is none of this. No afterlife. They’ll be here, but you’ll be gone.”

Now he pauses, considering.

“This is one hell of a would you rather,” he says with a grim expression, “I think I would have to say that I would stay here. I hate missing their lives, but what is thirty more years compared to eternity, right?”

I let out a small sigh of relief. 

“Speaking of which,” he continues, “Are you planning on going back soon? I just figured if you were going back that you might check up on them. Make sure they’re doing alright. If you aren’t going back that’s alright, because I know that it takes a lot of you.”

I should say no, I’m not going back. That the next time will likely be my last round trip. After that, it’s a one way ticket. I should save it for when I really need it. I should say no.

But then I look at him, and I can’t help but say yes. If I can ease his mind, put a smile on his face, help him be at peace, I will.

Because I think somehow, someway I accidently fell in love with Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Quick Note: The more I write this fic the more I realize that I am not that great at channeling my inner Tony and Loki. I apologize if the characterization is not great. Even though I personally am not super pleased with it, I am determined to finish this fic because I would really like to see it through. If you have any suggestions for me I am very happy to take some constructive criticism. I think one of my biggest hurdles right now if shifting Tony's romantic interest from Pepper to Loki. I have ideas on how to accomplish this, but a good brainstorm session never hurt! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to show you the next one!
> 
> Best,
> 
> The Author <3


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